


Prophetic Tears

by Aipilosse



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aipilosse/pseuds/Aipilosse
Summary: Idril Celebrindal’s life with a Cassandra twist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Finwëan Ladies Week 2020





	Prophetic Tears

Idril felt like her fear was closing in on her, shrinking her world until it was like looking out from a deep tunnel. She finally told her mother, feeling foolish; she was thirty years old, practically an adult. After she tearfully told Elenwë of her waking visions of darkness swallowing them both, the ground opening and icy spears springing out, her mother had taken her a few paces away from the main group to help her talk through her fears.

Elenwë walked with her on the ice, gripping her hand.

“I will not say there is no reason to fear, for we travel to a land of great peril. But your father and I will always protect you, and teach you to protect yourself.”

“Amil, it’s not monsters I’m afraid of.”

Elenwë stopped and looked at her, her brow creased. 

A loud crack rang through the air, and the next moment Idril was immersed in water so cold it felt like burning.

~

At first, she kept trying to warn others when dread slithered into her mind. They looked at her in pity.

“It’s no wonder she sees danger everywhere she looks, after Elenwë died the way she did.” She read the sentiment in their looks, and heard it whispered when they thought she could not hear.

When her father confided in her, and told her of his plans for Gondolin, a hidden city, safe from the danger and darkness of Beleriand, she determined that she would be a beacon of light for all who dwelt there. She would leave her darkness behind in Nevrast.

~

The feeling of foreboding still pressed on her sometimes, even before Gondolin was complete. 

When she heard where Penlod was building his house, she immediately wanted to leap out of her seat and scream, “No, not there!”

That was foolishness though; the plot of land was a fine spot, in a south central part of the planned city that would be near both the largest market square and the palace.

“That’s a wonderful location!” Turgon said. “I wish you all the best.”

Idril bit her tongue - the shining city was no place for her dark thoughts.

She knew before there was the knock at the door of their temporary residence that something terrible had happened. 

The messenger was out of breath and wild eyed.

“A sink hole! It opened right beneath Penlod’s house!”

Penlod would always walk with a limp after the accident. Far worse by far was the death of his son, crushed in the rubble. It was the first death in Gondolin, and reminded them all that while they may be hidden from the eyes of Morgoth, tragedy could never be outrun.

Idril told herself it was a coincidence - if she saw misfortune everywhere, it was only a matter of time until she was right by happenstance.

~

When her aunt announced her intention to visit Fingon, her heart began to pound in her ears so loudly she thought the rest of the room must hear it. She clenched her fists in her skirt to stop her hands from shaking and schooled her face.

She must not have masked her fear fully, because Aredhel tried to comfort her.

“Fear not! I travel with three valiant escorts and have no small skill in arms myself. I shall only be gone a few seasons, you will hardly miss me before I return.”

It’s almost one hundred years until she sees her aunt again.

At least with Aredhel, she knows no warning of hers would have been heeded.

~

The night before Aredhel and Maeglin return to Gondolin, Idril could not sleep at all. She tried hot tea, reading, and meditation, but the sick feeling in her stomach kept her awake. 

When she saw the familiar figure of her aunt, she told herself that this should be the final evidence that proved her disquiet was not to be trusted. She should be full of joy.

She also now had a cousin; that should be a happy occasion. But when her cousin’s gaze fell upon her, something troubled her, although she couldn’t voice her misgivings at the time.

With Aredhel safely back, there was no reason to go running to the guards and demand they close the city. There was no reason at all to sharpen the blade that she now kept in a ceremonial case.

~

After Eöl attempted to kill Maeglin, she knew she could no longer keep her forebodings to herself. Darkness had come to their blissful city without any help from her.

She begged Turgon not to kill Eöl. Deep in her heart, she knew death would beget death, however just it might seem to end Eöl’s life. Unfortunately, speaking does not guarantee that you will be heard.

~

Her father bears the moniker The Wise, but he is as deaf as his sister when it comes to leaving Gondolin. Idril laid out the inevitable outcome, first gently, and then more forcefully. As the shining host made ready to depart, she looked with dread on all the familiar faces she knew would not return. When her father left to fight beside his brother (one last time), she governed in his absence by day. When her duties were finished, she grieved. She knew there would be no time for her own grief when Turgon returned.

~

Idril had no warning when Tuor came to Gondolin, she didn’t know that he was coming until he bowed before them at the Tower of the King. Afterwards, there was murmuring in the streets. He came with the blessing of Ulmo, but who needed the blessing of a God other than the doomed? 

Turgon was pensive after he listened to Tuor’s message. He at least heard Tuor and discussed the matter with his council, even if he chose to ignore the message. Idril envied Tuor’s ability to be the messenger of God with fewer doubters than plagued her.

As her father was clouded with doubt, and whispers of doom began to run through the city, Idril had to laugh. She knew Tuor was no harbinger of their downfall - they had sealed their downfall long ago. 

All wisdom would say she was a fool. Tuor was mortal, loving him was choosing inevitable grief. But when she looked at Tuor, she has no dark fears. When Tuor smiled at her, she felt like she could breath again.

~

As she gazed at her son Eärendil, she saw the light of heaven in his face and the heavenly light he would be to all. She knew she could no longer keep her fears to herself. It was also not enough to be the voice of warning. It was time to act - the only way to avoid the worst was to create the path out of the dark cloud surrounding Gondolin herself. 

She summoned the best and most discreet builders she knew, and counted herself among them. She needed no permission, and her way was certain. Idril would lead the escape; it was the only way to save some part of her people.


End file.
